Lights Out: The Elevator to Hell

Wallace Arnton, the civil criminal defense attorney, was far from an innocent man. His place of work was a predictably ostentatious skyscraper, with the sort of fancy elevators that played classical music and accurately announced the current floor and direction of their pending motion.

Most unfortunately for Wallace, one of the elevators was about to malfunction.

As the workday ended and Wallace stepped inside the sliding doors, a pleasant voice said “going down”. Naturally, Wallace worked on the top floor and was accustomed to the long descent, but he had never before experienced the lights going out, nor had he ever felt the violent lurch as the large metal box ground to a halt. It took him a moment to regain his balance and fight down his panic as he realized the elevator had not dropped more than perhaps a foot.

The attorney heaved a sigh of relief, then held his breath as he heard the unmistakable sound of an overly tensed cable snapping from the strain. The elevator wobbled and sharply lowered a few inches. Wallace began to hyperventilate. Then he heard the sound again, and again, and he started to whimper as the metal box shook and sank with agonizing jolts until finally, the last cable snapped.

Wallace wasn’t sure how long the freefall had been, only that he had screamed in terror, and then all had gone dark. He woke, unsure how much time had passed, to pitch blackness. His head, back, and legs hurt, but they seemed miraculously unbroken. He let out a shaking, relieved sigh.

The dark was starting to press upon him, so he pulled out his phone. The screen was cracked, but he got the flashlight working. He cast the light around, noting the somewhat crumpled shape of the elevator, then he yelped in surprise when he saw a woman standing in the opposite corner. He didn’t remember her being on the elevator when he had entered, but he often didn’t notice other people.

In truth, when he had set foot in the machine, he had been daydreaming about how to spend his latest bribe…

“Do you mind?” the woman said in a slightly annoyed tone. She held up a hand against the flashlight’s harsh illumination. Despite the scowl on her face, it was apparent she was fiercely beautiful, with long, wavy golden hair and steely gray eyes. She wore a contoured, royal blue dress that just reached her knees, and she carried herself like some sort of executive. Wallace might have asked her out for a drink under normal circumstances.

The lawyer hastily lowered the phone’s light to the floor. “S-sorry about that,” he said. “I hadn’t realized I wasn’t alone in here.”

In the dim light that bounced along the walls from the downturned phone, he saw the angelic woman wave a dismissive hand. “I tend to have a bit of a subtle aura,” she said mischievously.

“I find that hard to believe,” Wallace countered. “I mean if you don’t mind me saying, you’re quite striking.”

The well-dressed woman hummed in approval. “Why thank you, Mr…?”

“Arnton, but you can call me Wallace.”

“Wallace,” she said. “Are you hurt? That was a nasty fall.” She made no motion as if to cross the small space to check on him, and she didn’t sound particularly concerned. That was unsurprising though, as most people who worked in the building were the detached sort.

Wallace realized he had been sitting on the ground this whole time. As he picked himself up, he said, “I think I’m fine, all things considered. Nothing broken.”

“Seems we’re both unscathed then,” the woman said thoughtfully. She crossed her arms. “We must have the Devil’s own luck.”

The wealthy attorney laughed nervously. “Right...very lucky.” Though it was silly, he cast his gaze upward at the shadowy ceiling. “How long do you think it’ll take them to dig us out?”

The woman shrugged. “Who knows? No point in worrying. We’ve got plenty of time, I’m certain.”

Wallace didn’t like the way she had said that last part.

He bumped into the wall behind him and suppressed a squeak of surprise. He could feel her looking at him. He didn’t like that either.

“Speaking of how long things take,” the woman in blue continued, “had the check cleared yet?”

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Wallace stated neutrally.

“You know,” the woman continued mercilessly, “the bribe that pedophile car dealership manager gave you? So you wouldn’t report him to the police?”

Wallace’s eyes widened. “H-how? I mean, that—that’s absolutely ridiculous. You...you don’t know anything!” His flustered defenses rose to a shout. How did she know? The battery on his phone suddenly fizzled, and the pallid light faded away. Wallace backed into the far corner of the tiny room, putting as much distance between himself and the woman as possible. “Who the hell are you?” he demanded.

He did not hear the click of her ebony heels on the floor, but her voice now placed her not more than an arm’s length away. “A very good question,” she chuckled. Her voice seemed to echo slightly, but that should have been impossible in such a cramped space. “Though you already know the answer.”

The terrified man’s breathing had become gasps. His hands shook as he raised them defensively, but he managed to put some bite back into his voice. “I don’t know anything of the sort. If this is some kind of staged attempt to intimidate me, I will sue your ass to kingdom come!”

“Kingdom come?” her echoing voice mocked. “Mr. Arnton, you’ve already come to my kingdom.”

As the woman finished speaking, a faint, blood-red light began to pour through the dented crease in the elevator doors. It gave the woman’s silhouette a crimson halo.

Wallace pressed himself tightly against his corner and stared at the light in disbelief. “This is some kind of trick,” he sneered desperately. “Making me think I’m in Hell. Nice try. Who hired you? Was it Patrella? Van Harst?”

He saw the woman place her hands on her hips. “Hmm, well, if we were in Hell, I suppose it would need to smell of sulfur…”

The scent of rotten eggs suddenly assaulted the lawyer’s nose, and he sank to the ground as his legs gave way beneath him.

“Did you know that sulfur actually burns blue?” The woman added innocently.

Through the crack in the doors, Wallace watched as the red glow shifted to a vibrant azure light, and he heard the faint sound of flickering flames. He started to slowly shake his head from side to side, eyes wide with horror.

“Oh, and of course, there would be the screams.”

A tidal wave of despairing wails reached Wallace’s ears through those doors, and he tried to bury his head in his knees. “No. No, no, no no no nononono.” This had to be a dream. This couldn’t be real. “I n-never r-really h-hurt anyone. I don’t deserve this.”

“You don’t believe that,” the vengeful angel said. She approached the broken soul and knelt before him. He curled into a tighter ball and tried to fade away, but he knew that was impossible. “...do you?”

The dead man sobbed and shook his head. “No,” he whispered. “I don’t.”